Never Run, Walk Away Say Good-Night, Not Good-Day
by Funky In Fishnet
Summary: Neal is learning to adjust to Storybrooke, to no longer being alone, to letting people in. Mulan, Aurora, and Philip won't let him shut himself off or run away anymore. And Hook wants to talk to him.


_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing._

_**Author Note: **Features the same OT4 etc as 'Tell Me A Story The Way That Liars Do' and 'Our Future As It Fast Unfurls' but can be read as a standalone. Title is a lyric from the song 'Never Smile At A Crocodile' from the soundtrack of the Disney film 'Peter Pan.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Never Run, Walk Away. Say Good-Night, Not Good-Day<strong>

"Bae."

Neal had known he was there, but his spine still stiffened at the sound of that voice. Of course Hook had waited until he was alone for this latest attempt at conversation. There he was, pirate and liar, bathed in shadows. He wasn't smirking though, in fact he looked almost tentative. Good.

"I thought I was clear before, I've got nothing to say to you."

Hook almost smiled. "Oh, you were perfectly clear. But there's no harm in listening, is there?"

Neal snorted in disbelief, of all people Hook should know exactly the kind of harm listening to a pirate could cause. Look at what it had done to Neal; look at what it had done to his mother. He made as if to leave but Hook's next words made him pause.

"Oh, but you'll listen to your father?"

It was a low blow but it was also loaded with uncomfortable truth. Neal _was_ back on speaking terms with his father, but it was a long difficult path towards forgiving and forgetting and Neal wasn't willing to take any shortcuts, despite his father's suggestion of a magical rewind on his childhood. His dad really didn't get it; it was always one extreme or another with him. Compromise was not part of his language.

Neal raised a challenging eyebrow towards Hook. It was weird, but when he'd first seen the pirate again, his first thought had been _he's gotten shorter. _He'd been so young when he'd first met Hook; everything had seemed larger than life then, everything had seemed possible.

That hadn't lasted long.

Whatever mask Hook was wearing now, it looked like it was slipping. There was some desperation on his face, or maybe that was just another mask. Neal shook his head.

"People are waiting for me."

Hook's expression twisted, the desperation increased. "You gave your father a chance..."

Right. His father. Neal's lip curled, it had taken a lot for him to give his father that chance - Rumplestiltskin had been dying when Neal had finally clasped his hand. Though, if Neal was brutally honest with himself, something that he'd gotten good at avoiding, while he might have often wished Hook dead over the years, if the pirate had really suffered that fate…Neal's life was tied in so many knots.

He sighed, because this was inevitable. "I'll listen. That was the chance he got."

Hook looked pleased and opened his mouth to speak again but Neal shook his head and began walking away. "But not right now."

He did have people waiting for him and he wasn't sure that he'd be able to listen to Hook's no-doubt-practiced words for long, not without reacting with his fists. Too many knots.

* * *

><p>"Hook," was all he said to Mulan when he got home and she understood.<p>

She offered him a beer from the fridge and sat close to him, ready to listen. He rested a hand on her thigh, grateful for her presence and for her silence. He was definitely going to hole up with her for a while, Philip and Aurora would understand, they liked to have time alone together too. People didn't always get that, that for the four of them, it wasn't about all being together all of the time, sometimes Neal needed Aurora or Philip or both. Tonight, he needed Mulan.

Maybe it was the journey they'd taken together so soon after they'd first met, but his connection with Mulan was different, it was more immediate than what he had with Philip and Aurora, just as the royal couple had a connection that had started years before Mulan or Neal were in the picture. There was a shorthand between them. It didn't lessen what Neal and Mulan had with Philip and Aurora though.

Neal lay his head back, memories swirling. "My father..."

When he didn't finish, Mulan arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Your father?"

"He told me recently that I've been blessed in abundance."

Neal snorted as he recalled that moment, his father so eager to please, to spend time with his son, trying hard to fit into Neal's life as thoroughly as possible. Still, the Dark One liked having control; he liked eliminating all doubts, all possibilities of pain and failure. He liked using magic to solve problems.

Neal hadn't liked the way that his father's gaze had sharpened when he'd looked at Aurora, Philip, and Mulan.

"Your father…" It was Mulan's turn to trail off. "He worries, about you getting hurt again, about not being there to prevent it."

Neal nodded. "Sure, but I'm not a kid anymore. And he lost the right to make those choices for me a long time ago."

He reached and intertwined his fingers with Mulan's, enjoying the way a small smile took hold of her expression. Mulan knew what it was like to deal with loss, especially when it came to family. He'd heard her story piece by piece as the bond had deepened between them and was pretty humbled that she'd confided in him, because she rarely revealed any of her past to anyone. Here she was, someone who'd traveled far from home, who'd believed that the people she loved would always be out of reach, and now she was as happy and unbelievably blessed as he was.

She was wise too, Mulan, and beautiful. Neal found himself thinking that a lot, like whenever he watched her move through sword drills with Philip, the two of them looking like crazy beautiful artwork. Mulan softened a little when teaching Aurora how to handle a sword and glowed with pride at the princess's success. Neal knew the feeling.

He liked practicing swordwork too, because no matter what safety his father promised, Neal wanted to be able to protect his family personally too. And it was good to learn with Henry, to see how his son lit up at being taken seriously, not always shoved away somewhere for his own safety. Neal wanted him safe, more than anything, but he wanted him ready too.

He lifted Mulan's hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers, relishing that he got to see how her skin darkened and how her mouth changed by degrees. He pressed closer to claim her lips, to drown out his thoughts, if only just for the evening. Mulan let him.

* * *

><p>Emma was a completely different knot, but still, a knot. They were civil, but careful, with each other, the whole 'I love you' thing lying heavy and leaden between them. But she kept on letting him see Henry, despite the dislike that was radiating from Regina Mills, maybe partly because of it. And Snow White and Prince Charming were okay with him, Snow was happy to see Aurora and Mulan again and though Neal caught her watching him curiously more than once, she always smiled when he caught her eye and it never seemed fake.<p>

Emma had her parents back. Good for her. She and Neal had never really talked about it, but they'd both silently recognized the look in each other's eyes, the look that only someone who'd been through the foster system had. From what he'd heard once he'd gotten to Storybrooke, Emma's parents had had a decent reason to send her away, but abandonment was still abandonment.

Charming gave a Neal a look sometimes, like he wanted to say something, maybe give a 'hurt my daughter again...' speech but he clearly wasn't sure how appropriate it now was. Neal bought him a drink more than once and figured that since Henry was happy, Snow and Charming approved of Neal hanging around. They were probably more concerned about Emma and all the quality time that she was spending with Hook.

Yeah, it concerned Neal too. It was a particularly painful knot. Hook was...Hook and he was spending time with Henry. Henry claimed that Hook was awesome and taught him how to use a sword and how to pick locks and all kinds of fun stuff. It brought back painful memories for Neal, it also brought up very painful concerns. It made him frown in a way that got his father asking what was wrong, _tell me, Bae, so I can make it right._

Neal had no interest in furthering that feud, there was too much of him in there already. So he shook his head and said it was just memories, that he was working through it and that he had all the help he needed. Rumplestiltskin's eyes skated over to Aurora, who was sat beside Belle. Mulan was keeping a sharp eye on Rumplestiltskin, she didn't like his expression any more than Neal did. Something cold clenched at Neal's chest and up his spine, for a second there when he'd looked at his father, he was sure that he'd seen the Dark One.

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><p>Philip was humming loudly when Neal wandered into the kitchen, mentally piled up with thoughts of his father, Emma, and Hook, who he still hadn't arranged to meet with. It was really good to have a distraction, though it was still odd to see the prince in modern-day dress – a button-down shirt and slacks, jeans would never have looked right on him – and honestly, Neal preferred the velvet and braid of Philip's other clothes. That was who Philip had been when Neal had met him, who he really was. This, the shirt and slacks, was all a concession, a compromise, a sign of how far he was from home.<p>

He, Aurora, and Mulan were all far from home, because they'd followed Neal to Storybrooke. Neal often felt guilty about that. They had a kingdom, all that remained of their families, friends, and who they were, and they'd left it behind because Storybrooke had needed them and because somehow, they'd felt that Neal was worth the sacrifice. Neal shook his head.

Then he pressed himself up against Philip's back, because the prince was there and Neal needed his solidity, he needed the contact. He needed a prince. Another thing he and Mulan had in common – neither of them could believe how lucky they were.

"You're thinking it again," Philip remarked, leaving his tea to steep and turning around so that he and Neal was pressed chest-to-chest.

That was the downside to being in a relationship – they called you on your shit and they rarely backed down. Neal tried to deflect, hands curving on Philip's hips.

"Family isn't a fairytale. That's not news."

Philip looked a little amused. "Nor is the fact that you're burdened by thoughts of the past. You don't have to bear them alone, not anymore."

Neal smiled tightly, something fragile choking up his throat. There was that luck again. If anybody else had said that to him, Neal wouldn't have believed them for a second. But Philip, Aurora, and Mulan? Decency and genuine affection poured out of them, and it tended to shake him up pretty frequently. It made him want to draw closer and simultaneously move far away so that he didn't do anything to taint them.

He leaned in enough to rest his forehead against Philip's, breathing him in, his hands gripping Philip's waist and some part of him still, always, thinking _enjoy it, it's not going to last forever._

It might have been hours later, or maybe just seconds, but at some point a soft hand touched his neck and Aurora smiled as he pulled back enough to glance her way. She fitted so naturally next to Philip and weirdly, she seemed to fit right next to Neal too. Her eyes brimmed with emotion and her hand trailed up to Neal's cheek, cradling it for a second before she leaned in to kiss him chastely. Neal's heartbeat stuttered, he was never going to lose that feeling around Aurora, that sensation of disbelief at somebody so picture-book beautiful, in appearance and spirit, wanting to be anywhere near him. But he'd seen her use a longbow and walk through nightmares, she was so much more than Disney had painted her to be.

"He was doing it again."

That was Mulan, who'd entered the room as stealthily as she always did and was now stood opposite Aurora. The leather jacket looked good on her.

Philip nodded in reply and Aurora sighed a little. "Please, Neal. Your father and Hook, they'll always be part of you."

So either Mulan had revealed how preoccupied he'd been lately, or they were reading him eerily well. He was kind of freaked-out by that, still completely used to hiding who he was and how he really felt, and he was also pretty in awe of how easily they cut right to the chase, they just weren't afraid to ask about the difficult complicated stuff. Henry was like that too. Neal was glad; he didn't want his son to be a coward, like his grandfather, like his father too-often had been.

But he was safe here and Philip, Aurora, and Mulan didn't have ulterior motives. They cared, it was plain from their body language and facial expressions, even Mulan who hid things as well as Neal, only for a while now she'd been letting him see as much as Aurora and Philip did. They cared and he was safe, they didn't demand anything of him but himself, which was actually pretty scary since he'd spent every day since childhood pretending to be someone else.

Philip tugged him closer and kissed him with an open mouth and an even more open heart. Neal let out a broken crumbling noise, Aurora's hand soft again on his neck and Mulan's fingers joining his at Philip's hip. It was like being in the center of a storm, all calm and anchored while everything else was raging. God, Neal wanted to hold onto that feeling, to hold onto them.

Then Philip parted just a little from him, still close enough to share his breath, to smile at him with eyes full of an affection that made Neal's insides clench and his words tumble free.

"I don't deserve..."

"Stop, please." Aurora cut in, frowning and determined, his touch strengthening, her expression willing him to believe her. "It's not...this isn't about deserving, it's about accepting and freedom..."

That was a new one. "Freedom?"

Aurora nodded but Philip answered. "This shouldn't drag you down, it should push you onward."

"It gives you something to fight for," Mulan added. "You don't have to fight alone, Neal."

They sounded so in-tune with each other, like they were already the perfect team, aligned and complete. But here they were, surrounding him, willing him to be part of it too, part of them. Damn luck and a lot of knots. So much of him wanted to run, but he'd been learning to resist that urge for a while now, he wasn't his father.

The silence was comfortable as Neal closed his eyes and soaked in the three different touches, the three people who stood so protectively around him. They'd opened themselves up to him so many times, telling him their stories, revealing their pain, their fears. When Neal had commented on their fearlessness, Philip had smiled painfully and had replied that fearlessness couldn't be further from the truth, that _when you spend years consumed by war and the fear of what it will take next, you learn to grasp happiness and do all in your power to ensure it will stay_.

They'd faced as many rocky roads as Neal had, separately and together, and here they were, still fighting to hold on to what made them happy, still tearing themselves open like a sacrifice for happiness's sake, for each other. Somehow, they still all believed it was worth it. Positioned in their midst, Neal could believe it too. They kept on offering him things that he'd always thought were short-term – any kind of love, a good relationship, security, reliable friendship. They kept on offering even though he frequently shied away. No matter what they said, they were too good for him, but God, he did not want to deal with everything without them. He didn't think he could.

So, maybe it was time then, time for his sacrifice. How much was he willing to put out there for them? He swallowed and tried.

"I'm still new at this," he admitted slowly.

Aurora smiled and tilted her head towards Philip who began leading the group towards one of the bedrooms – there were three altogether in the house, one for Henry when he was visiting and two for the rest of them, for when people needed space and for when they wanted to be together. Philip chose one of those two rooms, a familiar and comfortable king-size bed dominating it and everything decked out in browns and greens, forest colors, the colors of home, for all of them. Neal let himself be guided onto the bed, his head pillowed on Philip's chest, Mulan securely locking her fingers around his and her other arm laid at his waist. Aurora curled up beside him, her fingers resting on his chest, like a question and a reassurance. They were being careful but firm with him, refusing to let him shut himself down. Weirdly, the urge to run was quiet, sated somehow by their presence. Neal took a deep breath, it felt good, and talked.

Once he'd emptied out everything – Emma and whatever she had with Hook, Hook himself, and of course the unending tangle that was his father, he dried up, feeling drained and twitchy. But the trio kept their gentle hold on him, he felt Philip's lips brush his forehead and Mulan's hand squeeze his. They weren't running, and for once, neither was he.

* * *

><p>There were no easy answers when it came to him and Emma. He thought she was making a huge mistake in involving herself in any way with Hook and from her expressions and tight words; she was having trouble fathoming his relationship too. But they both loved Henry and once, in their own way, they'd loved each other. If Neal was being completely honest, he'd say that some part of him still loved her and always would, no matter what had happened between them and how far he'd run.<p>

Trying to give back what the others were giving him in honesty, he admitted as much to Mulan. It was always easier for him to talk to her. She didn't look surprised at all. Neal leaned a little closer, curiosity burning through him.

"Do you get, I don't know, jealous? Of Aurora?"

Mulan frowned a little. "At first, when I didn't know her. But that didn't matter, what mattered was keeping her safe, as safe as Philip would have done."

Neal nodded, his side pressed to hers. Mulan didn't seem uncomfortable with the topic, at least she seemed okay talking to him about it, which was a huge compliment.

"And I know that their love for each other is...different to what they feel for me. Different, not less. They loved each other first, that will always be true, just as you and Emma were together before we met."

She made it sound so simple, when Neal knew that she was fully aware that it wasn't. She'd been sure that Philip was dead and had insisted on protecting his great love, the one person who had stood in the way of her own happiness, only for something to grow between the two of them, something unacted upon apparently, because according to Mulan, to do anything once they'd discovered there was still a chance that Philip could live again was dishonorable. They had a lot more self-restraint than most people.

But it wasn't just leftover feelings that made him pretty convinced that Hook and Emma were a bad combination, it was the fact that he'd known Hook and what he was capable of. And Henry liked spending time with the pirate, liked hearing his stories and going on his ship and…Neal breathed in sharply. It had been years, but the pain was still sharp and fresh. Some knots hurt more than others, they always would.

"He gave back Aurora's heart," Mulan offered thoughtfully. "Hook, when it gained him nothing. And he gave Emma the use of his ship to find Henry, he worked with your father."

"Yeah…chalk one up for miracles."

Mulan's hand was on his knee, Neal liked it there.

"He wears your mother's name on his skin," Mulan concluded quietly.

Something tightened inside of Neal; he remembered finding his mother's picture, Hook's desperate plea for Neal to stay, to find the happiness that his mother had always wanted for him. He'd been convinced tat they were lies at the time, more pretty words from a pirate to lull him into a false sense of security and when the Lost Boys had taken him, that had only confirmed it.

Hook was a liar, but there had been something in his eyes when Neal reviewed those memories and when he thought of how the pirate had looked more recently when imploring Neal to hear him out. There had been some kind of glimmer of truth. Neal didn't want to think about it, Mulan wasn't letting him run away or hide though.

"No more regrets."

Her voice was quiet, a reminder of what they'd talked about on that journey to Rumplestiltskin's castle, how he'd regretted leaving Emma, how he wouldn't wish that kind of regret on anybody. He still wouldn't.

Did Hook ever regret charming Milah and taking her away from her son? He'd claimed that Milah had always regretted leaving Neal behind. Had they thought that they'd just sail in one day and invite him aboard the ship? Would Neal have accepted?

Probably. Maybe. A pain was starting to snarl in his head.

Who knows?

He didn't know his mother, he only had stories, stories from his father and from Hook, both not exactly reliable sources. Which were more likely to be true? Hook had loved her, that Neal did believe. He knew what somebody torn apart by love looked like. What had his mother been like? She'd been a pirate, somebody that had caught Hook's attention and had managed to hold it, for years. Clearly, she hadn't been ordinary.

He felt Mulah press her forehead to his temple, her breath warm and comforting. There were only good memories there, of nights spent curled up together in the Enchanted Forest, of learning each other through stories, and through hands and mouths, of realizing that they also shared a pretty beyond-friendship affection for their royal traveling companions and commiserating in very few words about the situation until Aurora and Philip had revealed exactly how they felt too. Those had been heady days, dream-like. Neal held onto them when the knots got particularly bad. He held on now, his fingers locked around Mulan's as he listened to her breathe.

* * *

><p>"Thank you, for agreeing to listen."<p>

Neal shrugged, hands in his pockets. Hook was still all in leather, he was still that figure from Neal's memories. He looked open enough, like he had on deck when he'd pleased with Neal to stay. That was a memory that refused to go away, hearing that his father had killed his mother. Neal took a deep breath, his expression a furrowed mask.

Hook inclined his head, his gaze sliding over Neal's shoulder. "I see you brought company."

Mulan was idling beside a nearby fence, her sword strapped to her back as she talked quietly to a passing Ruby. She didn't seem to be paying attention to Hook and Neal, but Neal knew that she was. It made something settle in his bones. He wasn't alone.

And Aurora and Philip, who'd wanted to come too, were waiting at home, ready and eager to listen, to hold on. Maybe Emma was doing the same for Hook. Maybe it was best if Neal didn't think about that.

"Company's good," was all he said.

"It is, if you're on the right side of her sword," Hook remarked, clearly trying for levity before his smile disappeared. "Bae, I..."

"My mom," Neal cut in abruptly, not wanting Hook to dictate the conversation, and really, there wasn't a lot that he'd actually listen to Hook talk about anyway. This was the topic that had been playing on his mind for days now. "Tell me about my mom. You've got two minutes."

Hook's smile was something soft and true. "Oh, two minutes won't be nearly enough to tell of your mother. She was...extraordinary."

Neal could feel Mulan's eyes on him and the ghost of Aurora and Philip's touch. Keeping a careful distance from Hook, Neal stood in the heavy evening light and listened.

_-the end_


End file.
